The Garden
by Absolution
Summary: Four years after leaving to find his own way, Heero is given the opportunity to choose a better life . . .
1. part one

Hey, all! This is a little story I recently posted on Blissful Ignorance, and I thought I'd stick it here for your enjoyment.

Disclaimer: Not only do I not own Gundam Wing, I don't own the concept of this story. The woman and her garden are taken from the short story "Roses by Moonlight" by Patricia C. Wrede, whose literary genius surpasses any I can hope to attain. The story comes from the collection "Book of Enchantments," which I definitely recommend to any fans of fantasy.   
  
The story has always fascinated me. On a recent car trip, I began to wonder how Heero would react to the garden, and what he would see. Thus, this story was born. Enjoy.   
  
Rating: G   


Pairing: 1xR

  


—   
  
  
  
The Garden   
  
by Eienvine   
  
  
  
  
Night had fallen over the city of St.-Ètienne. The clattering of the factories had ended with the workday and given way to the sounds of night: dogs barking, cars on the highway, the el trains making their last runs of the day. From somewhere far-off came the faint sound of music and laughter trickling out of a distant bar.   


  


As the night deepened, the street lights came on, adding their brightness to the lights coming from the windows of clubs and apartment buildings, until the whole valley floor was covered in points of light. The bright glow hovering over the city obscured the stars in the night sky; they were further masked by the cloud of pollution that always hung low over the city as though to suffocate it.   


  


Bells began to ring the hour from the old cathedral, the only building in the old part of St.-Ètienne not bombed out in the wars. The sound floated up through the smog and crept up the side of the mountain that towered over the city, finally reaching the ears of the solitary young man who sat in the foothills. 'Midnight,' the man thought to himself, and narrowed his eyes a little. He knew he ought to get back to his apartment- his shift at the factory started at eight- but he felt too restless to sleep.   


  


He had come to the hills, as he so often did, to think. He was seated on a wide, flat rock, his eyes fixed on the stars shining dimly overhead. He hadn't bothered to change after work and was clad in his standard issue brown pants and a wifebeater. The darkness of the night obscured his handsome face: delicate features, thick brown hair, and dark blue eyes that had the look of one who had seen too much, though he was only twenty years old.   


  


The mountain had been his sanctuary since he'd arrived in St.-Ètienne four years earlier. It was where he retreated to when he couldn't stand the noisy, dirty city any longer, as though by climbing above the town, he could somehow escape his mundane life at the factory.   
  


The factory was what was occupying his thoughts this particular night. When he'd first come to St.-Ètienne to disappear, hiding his identity and adopting an assumed name, he'd been glad to get the job. As the years had gone by, though, it had become more and more unbearable to work there. He had grown up in a world of constant action, and spending every day supervising a canning machine was terribly tedious.   


  


Thinking about his past made him think, as it always did, of the wars and the life he'd left behind. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if he'd stayed . . . he shook his head angrily. He would not let himself dwell on it. He hadn't belonged in that world. Leaving had been his only choice, and it wouldn't help to sit and wonder.   


  


The thoughts of his old life, he was sure, were just a result of his lack of companionship. He had no friends in the whole city; he never went out, and his co-workers were all a little wary of the messy-haired young man who never smiled and always worked holidays. He wasn't desperate for a friend- he'd always been a loner- but sometimes he wished he could talk to someone who understood him.   


  


Despite his best efforts at staidness, his thoughts wandered back to his old life. He wondered if anyone had tried to find him after he'd left, although he knew it wouldn't have mattered. After leaving, he'd changed his identity and covered his tracks so well that no one could have ever found him. Somehow, the thought depressed him. Not being the type to sigh, he simply uttered his usual comment on life: "Hn."   


  


What was it all about? he wondered. Why was he working at a dead-end job for minimum wage? What was it worth? He didn't want to stay, but if he left, he had nowhere to go. Life wasn't worth living, but suicide seemed the coward's way out. Were those the only options? He grunted again and lay back on his rock. Folding his arms behind his head, he let his eyes slowly drift shut.   


  


"Heero Yuy." His eyes flew open. "Or should I say Sean Tanamera?" the melodious voice continued, as Heero quickly sat up and turned around. A woman stood behind him, dark-haired and beautiful, clad in a simple silk dress. She looked to be near his age, but something in her face spoke of countless ages of wisdom. There was a hint of a smile on her face, but Heero didn't feel inclined to smile back. Who was this woman? How had she gotten so close without his hearing her?   


  


Most importantly, how did she know his name, both his old name and his pseudonym? He didn't know her, and there was no way anyone could have traced the connection between the former Heero Yuy and the fictitious Sean Tanamera.   


  


These thoughts tore through his mind as he stared at her, and she politely waited for him to speak. "Who are you?" he finally asked. She smiled calmly. "The first question you ask, I cannot answer. Do not ask of me, rather of my roses."   


  


This made no sense to Heero, so he tried the other question on his mind. "How do you know my name?" She smiled. "I know all about you, pilot 01." In his surprise and confusion, Heero's mind barely registered the fact that she was speaking his native Japanese, rather than the French he'd adopted when he'd arrived in St.-Ètienne.   


  


"How do you know me?" he asked warily.   


  


Her eyes became distant, as though remembering something from a long time past. "Twenty-one years ago tonight, I visited a man called Odin Lowe, who wanted to be the greatest fighter in the world. After he chose, I watched him, until he died."   


  


Heero's surprise surpassed any he could ever remember feeling. Few people knew of the deceased assassin Odin Lowe, and even fewer knew of the little boy who had once worked with him. He couldn't think of how to reply, so he simply asked, "What do you mean, 'he chose'?"   


  


The woman smiled. "I will show you."   


  


She turned and walked into the trees, leaving a bewildered Heero behind her. Although his face was serious, inside, his thoughts were in turmoil. How could this woman know things about him that he'd never told anyone? Part of him said the woman knew too much and was dangerous, but the rest of him still yearned desperately to find out what she'd meant. In an instant, he made his decision, and stood up to follow her.   


  


The woman seemed to have been waiting for him. Once he reached her, she turned and walked gracefully through the trees. He followed.   


  


They were following a path that wove through the trees. Heero knew the woods well, and he knew the path led to a nearby meadow. But why, he wondered, would we be going there? The meadow had once been the site of a battle, and nothing had grown there since. The ground was scorched and barren, and the trees that had once surrounded the meadow with shade were blackened and twisted.   


  


The woman seemed sure of herself, though, so Heero followed her in silence, walking briskly to keep up with her quick pace. They reached the last turn in the path, and Heero stepped into the meadow, expecting to see a desolate field. He was wrong.   


  


There before him, bathed in moonlight, was a rose garden. More rosebushes than he could count stretched out before him, filling the night air with their beautiful scent. He stood under a white lattice archway, woven through with dark green leaves and delicate white roses. Around the edge of the garden stood a wall of beautifully-colored hedge roses.   


  


Inside the garden were bushes every different kind. There were tall bushes of red roses, carefully pruned, and small, delicate bushes of wild roses. On the right side was a long, low hedge of yellow roses, and on the left side stood a similar hedge of wild, magenta blooms. There were bushes pruned into fanciful shapes, and tall, graceful, pink- blossomed bushes shaped like trees. Everywhere he looked he saw a riot of different colors: white, pink, orange, yellow, magenta and red.   


  


Dotting the maze of roses were stone benches and delicate Greek statues, and in the center stood an ancient fountain, now dry, grown over with white roses. And in the very back, almost obscured by darkness, was a lattice archway covered with leaves, forming a canopy over an intricately carved bench.   


  


Although the night had been dark, the entire garden was bathed in bright moonlight. Heero looked up and saw that the cloud of pollution was gone, and the stars were shining as brightly as they did when he was in space. Looking around, he realized everything had changed. The mountain and trees above them had disappeared, and he suddenly noticed he could no longer hear the cars on the nearby highway.   


  


Heero whirled around to face the woman, about to demand an explanation. She just smiled enigmatically, and the words died on his tongue; he knew he wouldn't get the answer he wanted, so he turned back and surveyed the scene before him. The whole affair was impossible, and since his Spartan upbringing didn't allow for a belief in anything mystical, he could only believe he was dreaming.   


  


Although . . . he discreetly reached over and pinched his own arm. It certainly _felt_ like he was awake. "No, you're not dreaming," said the woman, and Heero dropped his arms quickly. "This is impossible," he told her monotonously.   


  


The woman raised an eyebrow. "Quite the opposite. You will find my garden contains all possibilities." Before Heero could reply, she swept past him and seated herself daintily on a bench. Raising her arms to gesture at the garden around her, she spoke. "My garden is yours for this one night. Try as many flowers as you wish, but remember that you may pick one and only one rose, so do not choose one until you are sure it is the one you want."   


  


Heero had no idea what the woman was talking about, but she seemed to want him to smell a rose. Although he was still half-convinced she wasn't real, he decided to comply with her wishes, partly out of curiosity about what the woman thought might happen. Turning to the rose covered archway, he reached out and grasped a stem.   


  


Her voice stopped him. "Take care as you go. If you break a stem, even if it is by accident, your choice is made." He nodded and released the flower carefully. With his hands at his sides, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and inhaled.   


  
  
  
  


_Heero motioned for the bartender to bring his sixth . . . seventh . . . it didn__'t matter how many he'd had, he just wanted another glass of beer. The bartender brought it over, eyeing the heavily intoxicated man with concern, and said, "This is your last glass, Tanamera."   
_

  


_Heero nodded and downed the glass. Throwing money on the bar, he tottered shakily out into the cool night air. How did it come to this? he wondered. In his youth, addiction to anything was a sign of weakness, and a detriment to the mission. After a few years in St.-Ètienne, though, he'd sunk into a deep depression, and soon turned to drinking.   
_

  


_He reached his apartment and threw himself on his bed, hoping he wouldn't be too ill at work in the morning. He stared at the ceiling, a bitter smile twisting his face. What would people say if they could see the perfect soldier now?   
_  
  
  


  


Heero's eyes flew open and he pushed himself away from the flower. "What is this?" he asked the woman angrily. What were these visions in his head? They felt so real . . . She just smiled. "Try another flower."   


  


Still eyeing the woman suspiciously, Heero found another flower, just above the first, and leaned forward to smell it.   
  


  
  
  


_The door opened and Lynne walked in, a tired smile on her face. __"Hey, Sean," she murmured. "Hard day at the factory?" Heero asked dully. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, then pulled back and smiled.   
_

  


_Heero smiled back, but in her eyes he saw the truth he'd known all along. There was no love in their relationship. They were just two desperately lonely people, both wanting happiness, and looking vainly for it in each other.   
_

  
  
  
  


Heero straightened, frowning. Why did they all show such dismal scenes? Was this supposed to be a vision of his future? Even if the garden wasn't real, he hated seeing his life portrayed that way. Moving to the other side of the archway, he found the largest, fullest blossom and smelled it.   
  
  


  
  


_He was lying on his back, covered in something white. Where was he? Why couldn__'t he move? He heard movement somewhere above him, and a man with a deep, gruff voice spoke. "The landlady called around midnight about a gunshot. We searched the building and found him on his balcony."   
_

  


_A second, gentler voice spoke. "Suicide. Self-inflicted gunshot to the right temple. The bullet matched the gun found in his right hand."   
_

  


_There was the sound of approaching footsteps, then a third voice. "I checked his records and talked to his supervisor at work. He had no close friends, and we have no record of family of Sean Tanamera."   
_

  


_It was then that Heero realized he wasn't breathing . . .   
_

  
  
  
  


Heero's eyes flew open and he shook his head, trying to rid it of the . . . dreams- hallucinations- what were they? Pushing himself up and away from the rose, he rounded angrily on the dark-haired woman, who was still sitting on the bench. "What is this?" he demanded. "Are you saying my life is destined to be screwed up?"   


  


The woman shook her head. "My garden does not show the future. It only shows possibilities. When you find the possibility you desire, you may pick it and my garden will make it a reality."   


  


"But everything I've seen so far has been terrible," he replied. Though the logical part of his brain was still convinced nothing was real, he was sure he wasn't dreaming, and there was something about the garden that made him believe. And what she'd said about Odin . . . he knew, somehow, that this garden truly could give him anything he wanted.   


  


"I have no control over what my flowers show you," said the woman. "I do not even know what you see."   


  


Heero frowned. "They're all bad," he said haltingly. "I always end up trapped here in St.-Ètienne, living terrible lives. Am I destined to be stuck here?"   


  


"There are some things we cannot change," she replied. "Sometimes we are too far down one path. It is more likely, though, that the roses show you in St.-Ètienne because that is in your thoughts tonight. Keep searching. There are flowers here that will bring you happiness." She smiled suddenly. "I suggest you try another bush."   


  
  
  


---   


  
  
  


There's the beginning. This will be the longest of the three parts, I think. Anyway, please review, even if you think it's terrible- well, actually . . .


	2. part two

Here's part two! Thanks to those who reviewed, and, ummm . . . please review this one.

  


And to Ai-shi - this is based on another story, and in that it never says who the woman is, or even what her name is. I suppose it's up to us to guess. You could read the story then write your own fanfic on who she is . . . that could be pretty cool.

  


Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or "Roses by Moonlight".

  
  


—   
  
  
  
The Garden

part two  
  
by Eienvine   


  
  
  
__

There are flowers here that will bring you happiness. The woman's words seemed to echo in his ears, and Heero suddenly felt eager to find one of those flowers. Turning away from the archway he'd entered through, he strode out into the garden, looking for a better choice.

  


He moved to a bush covered with small, orange roses. Choosing one, he bent low to the ground and inhaled, letting his eyes fall closed.

  
  
  
  


_Dropping his bag to the floor, he moved to the window and looked out. Windsor Castle . . . could there be a more scenic place to work? Bodyguarding the king of England was certainly better than working at a factory._

  


_He'd met the head of the king's bodyguards during the war, and when Heero contacted him some five years later, the man had gotten him a spot among the king's guards, working under an assumed name. He glanced down, fingering the badge on his chest which stated his name to be Marriner Calverton._

  


_Heero smiled. He could very happily stay here, his identity hidden, for the rest of his life._

  
  
  
  


Heero blinked and pulled away. It was certainly a better choice, but he wasn't sure yet. He memorized the location of the flower, just in case, and moved to another bush.

  
  
  
  


_As orders began to crackle over the radio, Heero felt the rush of excitement that came with being back on the battlefield. Of course, he wished he was in his Gundam, but since all the mobile suits had been destroyed after the wars, he was forced to be content with a tank._

  


_He began to wonder again if what he was doing was right- destroying the peace he'd helped to create. He wasn't sure if he believed in the rebels' cause, but he couldn't help being drawn to battles. After trying for years to resist, he'd finally started to believe what everyone said about people like him: soldiers were only good for fighting._

  
  
  
  


Heero opened his eyes and stared at the rose. How did it know that statement plagued him? "I am better than that," he whispered, glaring at the bush. He stood angrily and walked to a large yellow rose.

  
  
  
  


_Space. It was just like he remembered it- still, serene. Heero maneuvered his shuttle easily through the field of space debris, pulling it to a stop alongside the remains of a Leo so that his fellow scavengers could pull it into the shuttle. This certainly wasn't what he'd expected to do with his life, but at least he got to work in his beloved space._

  
  
  
  


Heero shook his head. He did like being in space, but being a junk scavenger wasn't what he'd had in mind. He reached around the other side of the bush, being careful not to break any stems, and pulled another rose toward his face.

  
  
  
  


_"I'm so glad you called me," Quatre Winner said earnestly. The blond aristocrat was seated on the veranda of Heero's spacious Parisian flat, sipping tea. "It's been nearly ten years since any of us have seen you."_

  


_Heero nodded and drank his own tea. He wasn't quite sure why he'd called his former compatriot; after disappearing, working in St.-Ètienne, and then opening a very successful nightclub in Paris, he hadn't expected to see any of his former friends again. When he'd heard Quatre was in town, though, something had prompted him to call him._

  


_He'd fought the urge for several days, but his curiosity about what had happened to the other Gundam Pilots had finally pushed him into making the call. Quatre was delighted to hear from him, and after promising not to tell anyone where Heero was, he'd come over to visit. Now, he smiled that sincere smile of his and looked at Heero. "So, what have you been up to?"_

  
  
  
  


Heero frowned. "Nightclub?" He was sure the woman laughed, but when he turned around, her face was calm. Shaking his head, Heero moved to another bush.

  
  
  
  


_Heero pulled his black mask off and dropped it beside the bag of jewels on his bed. Stretching luxuriously, he let a malicious smile cross his face. Who'd have thought the skills he'd acquired as a Gundam pilot would help him become the greatest thief in New York City?_

  
  
  
  


Heero let go of the rose and smirked. The thought amused him, but it was probably not a good choice. He walked to a tall bush of red roses and smelled one.

  
  
  
  


_"Preventer Icarus, come in." Heero moved quickly to the vidphone and clicked it on. Wufei Chang's face appeared on the screen. "Report." Heero immediately began detailing the progress of his latest assignment, heading the search for an escaped convict. Wufei looked impressed. "Nicely done, Icarus. I see I was right to take you on."_

  


_The call ended and Heero sat back, smirking. He was glad to have proved himself to Wufei, who, along with Sally Po, headed the Asian branch of the Preventers. Wufei, who understood Heero's feelings of unworthiness better than anyone, had agreed to hire Heero to work in the Thailand office under a false name. The stoic Chinese man had promised not to tell anyone of Heero's whereabouts, and he seemed to be living up to his word. Even Wufei's partner Sally didn't know where Heero was. No one knew that Heero Yuy even still existed._

  
  
  
  


For the first time that evening, Heero hesitated, straightening slowly, staring at the rose in front of him. The choice it offered was tempting: to work as a Preventer, but anonymously, with no demands and no expectations. No one would know that Heero Yuy was still alive. It sounded perfect- so why was he hesitating?

  


Heero stared at the flower a moment longer, his hand still extended towards it. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to pick the bloom. _ I just need to see more choices,_ he told himself, and, memorizing the flower's location, he turned to a low bush of blood-red roses. Choosing the topmost one, he leaned down and inhaled.

  
  
  
  


_From his hiding place in the organ loft, Heero had what he considered a perfect view of the church: he could see the pastor and the casket, but the occupants of the pews were hidden under the edge of the balcony. Although he'd felt obligated to attend the funeral, he didn't feel up to facing a group of people he'd abandoned fifteen years before._

  


_The pastor began to speak, and Heero leaned forward to peer more closely at the body in the casket, an unfamiliar tightness in his throat. He hadn't expected to feel such sorrow for the death of Trowa Barton._

  
  
  
  


Frowning, Heero straightened and stood, staring, at the flower. He was beginning to see a pattern. A few of the roses had made him happy, but so many more foretold only sadness in his life. Was it a sign, if that was all the garden could come up with to show him?

  


_No,_ he told himself. _I refuse to believe my life has to turn out that way._ He turned away from the rose and pushed his way blindly to the center of the garden, finally finding himself standing at the large marble fountain. _Might as well,_ he thought, and crouched on the ground to smell a delicate, white rose.

  
  
  
  


_The room was silent. Heero frowned a little; somehow, he'd thought everyone would be glad to see him. True, he'd been gone more than a decade, but- oh, why was everyone looking at him like someone had died?_

  


_Blonde-haired Zechs Marquise was on the couch, holding a crying woman whom Heero recognized as Lucrezia Noin. The Lightning Baron looked up at Heero with a weary look in his eyes. "You heard, then?"_

  


_Heero shook his head. "Heard what?"_

  


_Trowa Barton, sitting on the windowsill, raised an eyebrow. "It's been in all of today's newspapers. Did you read any this morning?" Heero shook his head mutely. What was wrong? And where was everyone?_

  


_Hilde Schbeiker and Catherine Bloom exchanged glances, but it was Duo Maxwell who came forward, his large violet eyes serious. "Heero, there was an attack last night. It's Ojou-san. She's . . . dead."_

  
  
  
  


Heero, coming back to himself, was vaguely aware that he had fallen to his knees. He stood abruptly, swallowing the tight feeling that he inexplicably found in his throat, and pushed himself away from the fountain, rounding on the dark-haired woman. "Why?" he demanded,. "Why can't I find happiness here? Is there no hope for me? Is that what these are saying?"

  


The woman seemed unaffected by his outburst. Heero felt his anger rise, but before he could shout again, she raised a hand to silence him. "You have only tried a few flowers. Don't be so quick to lose hope. There is still a whole garden of possibilities."

  


A sudden urge to find a vision he wanted surged through his body, and Heero strode into the garden, determined to find happiness among the roses.

  
  
  
  


—

  
  
  


I hope you're enjoying it! There's only one part left, so stay tuned!

  


Oh, and please review, if you feel so inclined. Or maybe even if you don't.


	3. part three

Last chapter! Hoorah! Thanks to all those who reviewed, and all those who will review (notice my subtle hint. Tricky, eh?). Anyway, enjoy! 

Disclaimer: Let me check my pockets: hmm, loose change, movie ticket stub, wallet . . . nope! No Gundam Wing or Roses by Moonlight! Must not be mine!   
  
  


  


---   
  
  
The Garden, part 3   
  
  
by Eienvine   
  
  
  
  
  
  
In later years, Heero could never be sure how much time he had spent in the garden, be it minutes or days. There, under the enchanted moonlight, moving from rose to rose, Heero lived a thousand different lives. He saw himself at every age, living on every different continent and colony. He saw himself growing old in the country with his six children and dying alone in a dingy flat. He saw himself in a hundred different occupations: doctor, lawyer, businessman, vagrant, criminal, thief. He saw himself with a hundred different women. Everything blended into a swirl of thoughts and images: laughter on a sunlit lake, doleful eyes in a dark alley, the murmuring of a watching crowd. Some visions tempted him and others repulsed him, but he never found one he was perfectly happy with.   
  
  
Heero didn't know how much time had passed when he finally straightened, stretching his arms. The rose he'd just smelled had been singularly annoying: himself at dinner with a redhead, clad in a tight black dress, who kept running her foot up and down his leg and smiling suggestively.   
  
  
He had worked his way toward the back of the garden and, though he hadn't noticed, the strange dark-haired woman had followed him there. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he turned to face her.   
  
  
"Odin was here, in your garden?" he asked. She nodded.   
  
  
Heero thought a moment. "And he chose a flower?" Another nod. "What did his flower show?"   
  
  
"I do not know," she replied. "I do not see what you do in the roses. I do know, however, that Odin told me when I first met him that he wanted to be the greatest soldier in the world."   
  
  
Heero frowned. "But he ended up as an assassin- and then he died," he said. The woman's eyes grew sad. "We make choices, but we cannot always tell where those choices take us. It is a chance everyone must take."   
  
  
Something in her words struck a chord within him, and it was with some uncertainty that he turned back to the garden, looking for a rosebush he hadn't tried yet.   
  
  
Then, his eyes moved to the back of the garden. There, washed with the moonlight, stood something he had noticed earlier; a lattice archway, covered in dark leaves, forming a canopy over a stone bench. The bench, he could now see, was covered with carved Grecian figures and words in a language he couldn't read. He glanced up and paused. He'd thought the rosebush above the bench had no blossoms, but now, standing up close, he could see a single pink rose, growing high on the arch.   
  
  
The solitary rose seemed to be calling to him, and Heero found himself walking toward the bench. The flower was out of his reach, however, even when he stood on the bench. Undeterred, he grabbed at the lattice arch and, after testing its strength, began to climb.   
  
  
When he was still a few feet from the rose, Heero found the arch was swaying dangerously, and he was forced to halt his ascent. The rose glowed in the moonlight just an arm's reach away. He shifted his weight and, pulling himself up carefully, reached out to grasp the rose. To get his face to it, he had to lay uncomfortably across the arch. Ignoring his discomfort, he brought the blossom to his face, closed his eyes, and inhaled the rose's sweet scent.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
_With a contented sigh, Duo pushed himself up from his seat on the porch step and stretched his arms behind his head, sending his braid swinging. __"It was nice talkin' to you, Heero," he grinned, "but I've got to get back to the wife, and so," he punched Heero lightly on the shoulder, "do you."   
  
  
Heero stood as well and walked his friend to his car. "Thanks for coming over," he said in usual low voice. "I'll see you at work on Monday."   
  
  
Duo saluted from the driver's seat. "Bright and early!" he replied, then drove away into the cool night air.   
  
  
When Duo's car had turned the corner, Heero turned and walked back into the mansion, yawning. It had been a long day at the Preventers office, and he would be glad to fall into bed. After brushing his teeth and pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms, he moved around the house with his usual silent grace, checking the security. When he was finally satisfied, he went back upstairs to the bedroom.   
  
  
He was ready to collapse into bed, but when he reached the bedroom door, he paused. His wife was walking across the room, her long blonde hair falling down the back of her nightgown. A smile formed on his lips. Heavens, how he loved her. She looked up and, seeing him at the door, smiled fondly, then went back to turning down the covers.   
  
  
Heero walked in and pulled the door shut. "How are you doing?" he asked her. "We're both fine," she replied, smiling, and placed a hand to her stomach. "The doctor said we're both perfectly healthy." Heero let a proud smile cross his face. "He'll be a strong boy," he said, his voice soft. She looked at him, frowning a little. "Girl."   
  
  
A split second passed, and they both started laughing. Heero put his arms around his wife and pulled her down on the bed. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed her scent in deeply, and as he drifted off to sleep, he murmured her name . . .   
_  
  
  
  
  
  
"Relena." Heero's eyes drifted open, and he realized with a start that he was still in the garden, stretched uncomfortably over a rosebush, with a strange woman watching him in amusement. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked back at the rose with a feeling in his chest he hadn't felt for a long time. Having abandoning Relena four years before, he wouldn't have thought seeing her could have affected him the way it had. _ That__'s why you left!_ screamed the part of his mind that was still entrenched in the real world. _You wanted to get away from your feelings for her. You wanted freedom. You didn__'t want to be burdened with a relationship- with her. _  
  
  
His mind's logic, however, could not banish the feelings the sight of her had stirred within him. He stared at the stars above him, realization dawning in his mind and heart. He'd thought that, by leaving, he could make himself stop feeling the way he did for her, but if anything, the absence had just made him love her more. His eyes widened. Had he really just thought that? A bittersweet smile crossed his face. It was true. He loved her- had for the last four years and longer. "I love her," he whispered to night sky, a smile on his face.   
  
  
He knew what he wanted. When he'd left her, he'd thought all he wanted in life was freedom. Now, after four years alone, he knew all he wanted in life was her . . . Relena. He looked back at the flower and smiled. It offered everything he wanted, everything he needed to be happy for the rest of his life and forever. It was perfect. He had chosen.   
  
  
His hand was on the stem of the rose, prepared to pick it and gain lifelong happiness, but suddenly his hand faltered. He thought of Odin, and of what the woman had said. How did he really know this rose was perfect?   
  
  
Another thought, one that had been nagging at him all night, came to the fore of his mind. "If I pick this," he asked, still on the arch, "Relena will love me? We'll get married?" "If that is what the rose showed you," the woman on the ground below him replied, "that is what will happen."   
  
  
Heero frowned a little. "This rose can make Relena love me?" The woman nodded, and Heero felt truly unsettled. "Relena will only love me because the rose made her?"   
  
  
For the first time that evening, the woman frowned. "You will get what you want. Why does it matter how it happens?"   
  
  
Heero cast a long, lingering look at the rose, then released it and turned back to the woman. "I want it to be her choice." Turning away, he climbed slowly down the arch, picking his way carefully down through the leaves, away from the one rose he truly wanted and the one rose he refused to pick, a feeling of sadness settling onto his chest like a lead weight.   
  
  
Still, he thought to himself, it was an informative visit. The garden had shown him a world of possibilities he had never considered, and had proved to him that perhaps he wasn't doomed to remain in his present situation. The roses had showed him so many opportunities within his reach . . .   
  
  
In that moment, a thought occurred to him, and he jumped the rest of the way down and turned to the woman, suddenly very eager. "Your garden shows possibilities, right?" he asked. She nodded, looking confused. "So there is a possibility that I will end up the way the rose showed?" he pressed. Her brows furrowed. "I suppose so, but-"   
  
  
He turned away, feeling hope swelling inside him. "Then I have a chance with Relena, without your roses."   
  
  
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Then you choose . . ." "Not to choose," he replied. "Not yet. Not here." He began to walk away. "Where are you going?" she asked. Heero looked back with a faint smile on his face. "The Sanc Kingdom."   
  
  
"Are you sure?" the woman asked. "You were lucky to get this one chance in my garden. You will not get another." Heero looked down, frowning, but then nodded. "I'm sure." He smirked a little. "But thanks for the offer. It was . . . enlightening. I never would have known I have so many opportunities-" here he looked down- "that I have a chance . . . with her." He looked back up, his eyes serious. "Thank you."   
  
  
The woman stared at him a long moment, a serious look on her face; then, suddenly, she smiled. "You are wise, Heero Yuy," she said, sounding amused and pleased. "Wiser than most mortals. I hope your quest goes well for you."   
  
  
Blinking in surprise, Heero nodded his thanks. The woman raised her arms to gesture at the arch they had entered through. "There is the way back to your world. Go well, and choose wisely. Perhaps . . . perhaps we shall meet again, you and I."   
  
  
"Maybe," Heero replied, and was surprised to find his reply less monotonous than usual. Then, turning away from the woman, he walked across the enchanted garden, under the moonlit archway, and into the world beyond.  


  
  
  


fin   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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The end! Did you like it? Thanks for reading, even if you didn't. Anyway, I would be very appreciative if you would review, or at least think good thoughts in my direction. Peace out.


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